


Off Balance

by tsuristyle



Category: SMAP
Genre: Angst, Kissing, M/M, drunk!Tsuyoshi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 23:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9146698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuristyle/pseuds/tsuristyle
Summary: Nakai throws everything off balance. Shingo's gotten drunk with Tsuyoshi hundreds of times before and it's never been a problem so it's definitely Nakai's fault.(Set in the early 2000s.)





	

They shouldn't have gotten drunk.  
  
Not together, not the three of them. Not when Shingo can see the way Nakai's eyes keep wandering to Tsuyoshi, not when he can't keep his own heart from squeezing tightly every time his best friend laughs. Nakai throws everything off balance. Shingo's gotten drunk with Tsuyoshi hundreds of times before and it's never been a problem so it's definitely Nakai's fault.  
  
"I want another drink. Can I have another drink?" Tsuyoshi is sprawled on the living room floor, legs and arms spread wide like he's fallen there from a great height. "I want another one."  
  
"No more," Shingo tells him, stepping over him unsteadily. Tsuyoshi squints up at him and makes a grab at his passing foot, missing by several inches.  
  
"But I want another drink," he says plaintively, craning his neck to watch Shingo's feet head towards the kitchen. His hand falls to his stomach and unconsciously fiddles with the hem of his shirt.  
  
From the corner of his eye, Shingo sees Nakai scoot next to Tsuyoshi on the floor and pat his stomach. "You've had enough, Tsuyoshi."  
  
He runs the syllables of Tsuyoshi's name together, nearly dropping the _i_ altogether, like a nickname of his own invention. Shingo's hand tightens on the glass of water he's holding, slippery with condensation.  
  
Tsuyoshi sits up, suddenly filled with energy. "I know!"  
  
Nakai leans on his arm, grinning, his head to one side. "What?"  
  
"Let's take our clothes off! Can I take my clothes off? I'm gonna take my clothes off, it's too warm in here." He pulls off his shirt, dropping it on the floor. "C'mon, guys, let's strip!"  
  
Shingo rushes out of the kitchen as Tsuyoshi stands up unsteadily. "Tsuyopon, stop," he warns, reaching for his bandmate's arm.  
  
Tsuyoshi moves away, fingers already pulling at his belt buckle. "Why? You guys've let me do it before."  
  
How does someone so modest and unassuming most of the time transform into such a maniac? Shingo catches his bandmate from behind and holds him in place, leaning against the wall. "Do his belt back up," he tells Nakai, who gets up slowly, smile faltering. Tsuyoshi struggles against Shingo's arms-- and then abruptly relaxes, leaning comfortably against Shingo's chest as if a switch has been flipped somewhere inside him.  
  
"Shingo," Tsuyoshi slurs, nuzzling the side of Shingo's head with his cheek. "Will you look after me?" His hand slides along Shingo's arm, finds the crook of his elbow and trails upward. "I want Shingo to look after me."  
  
"Nakai," Shingo hisses, trying to focus. "Did you..." Nakai's just standing there, holding the ends of Tsuyoshi's belt. "Come on, quit playing around, I'm trying to--"  
  
Then Nakai makes a sound and Shingo remembers that _he's_ drunk, too, and now his bandmate is standing too close, and this, this is why they shouldn't have gotten drunk because this when it all goes to hell.  
  
" _I'm_ the leader," Nakai says, his voice whispery, almost plaintive. " _I'm_ supposed to look after you." He leans against Tsuyoshi, looking up into the younger man's face. Shingo looks into Nakai's eyes-- eyes that aren't focused on him, like he shouldn't be there, like he's spying on something that should be private--  
  
"Don't you want me to look after you?" Nakai murmurs, and kisses Tsuyoshi.  
  
Shingo closes his eyes. His head is reeling, he feels sick, swallowing hard against a tight throat. He's never thought about all the tiny, faint noises a kiss makes. He can hear-- _feel_ \-- the sound Tsuyoshi makes, soft and low.  
  
Tsuyoshi leans forward slightly, he likes kissing and hell, it probably doesn't even matter that it's Nakai. He probably can't even _tell_ it's Nakai. If Tsuyoshi wasn't drunk-- no, he's fooling himself, isn't he? He's seen the way Tsuyoshi looks at Nakai sometimes, like he knows the older man is hiding something and is itching to find out what. Tsuyoshi probably wants this, maybe even more than Nakai.  
  
It's Shingo and Nakai who have everything to lose.  
  
Shingo hugs Tsuyoshi tightly, buries his face in his neck. "Stop. Please, stop." Nakai breaks away, inhaling sharply. He steps back, letting the ends of Tsuyoshi's belt fall out of his trembling fingers.  
  
Tsuyoshi makes a soft quizzical noise and then slumps his head against Shingo's, and Shingo lets himself be dragged down by his bandmate's unconscious weight. Tsuyoshi's cheek ends up resting on his shoulder, his lips still slightly pink from--  
  
Shingo looks up. Nakai is staring at Tsuyoshi, at him, a confused mix of horror and guilt and longing written across his face, and Shingo wants to kiss Tsuyoshi right there and then because Tsuyopon is _his_ and he wants Nakai to know what it feels like but he also wants to pull Nakai into a hug and tell him it's okay because he knows what it's like to be terrified of yourself and maybe this wouldn't be so hard if they were in love with each other instead because somewhere, buried even more uneasily under the way he feels about Tsuyoshi, is the tangled mess of how he loves and hates and wants Nakai all at the same time.  
  
Shingo looks away, anywhere but at the older man. He hoists Tsuyoshi up in his arms, carrying him over to the couch. Tsuyoshi stirs as he sets him down, rolling his head to the side and opening his eyes.  
  
"Shingo," he murmurs, his face crinkling into a warm, sleepy smile. "Took care've me after all."  
  
Shingo smiles back, his chest too tight for words.  
  
Tsuyoshi squints, trying to see past him. "Where's Nakai?"  
  
Nakai comes up behind Shingo, keeping his distance. "I'm here."  
  
"Good." Tsuyoshi closes his eyes with another sleepy smile. "Gotta take care of him too."  
  
Shingo turns, and Nakai looks up at him, startled, uncertain.  
  
For a moment, he wants to hit the older man. Nakai would hit him back, maybe, and it would turn into a fight, and neither of them would win because Nakai might be smaller and weaker but Shingo doesn't have the heart for it.  
  
So instead, he leans over and kisses Nakai's cheek. The older man blinks and stares at Shingo, just as confused as Shingo feels but not pushing him away, not running from whatever he might be trying to say.  
  
"Yeah," Shingo replies, still looking at Nakai. They have everything to lose. But maybe they have to risk everything, and let everything be thrown out of balance, to find out what they really want. "I will."


End file.
